


The Healer and His Dragon

by TammyRenH



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean is Dean but way different, Gen, Sam is Sam but different, alternative universe, let there be dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 02:36:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20631698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TammyRenH/pseuds/TammyRenH
Summary: Sam is thrown into an alternative world where he lives in a big cabin in the middle of the woods, he's apparently some kind of healer, and oh - he has a dragon.   Written for 2019 Summer Gen based on a prompt by Annie46





	The Healer and His Dragon

Sam felt shaky.  
  
On one side of him, Dean stood. Solid as always, eyes fiercely focused on the horde of evil headed their way, side pressed firmly, reassuringly, against Sam’s.  
  
Slightly in front of Sam, Cas stood – stalwart and determined.  
  
And Sam stood in the middle, pain radiating from the blowback of the bullet that he had meant to kill Chuck with.  
Holding the makeshift weapon his brother had given him.  
  
And instead of being solid, or determined or fierce –  
  
He was shaky.  
  
This was his fault. This was happening because he had grabbed that gun and in a moment of madness had fired it at Chuck.  
  
And now not only would he and Dean and Cas almost assuredly die, but so would many others. All because he had messed up. Again  
  
The horde of monsters rushed at them. Beside him Dean roared, a warrior’s call. The first vampire reached Sam, he raised his weapon and he was blinded by a white light and then –  
  
Then –  
  
“And if you have any goldenrod, I’ll take that – “ A woman’s voice, worn with age and deep with an accent Sam didn’t recognize. Sam could see her standing in front of him, all of maybe five feet tall, silver hair – he could see her, but he couldn’t focus on her. “Are you okay, Sam? Maybe you need to sit down.”  
  
Sitting down sounded like an awesome idea.  
  
Sam took a few unsteady steps before he realized he didn’t know where the hell he was going.  
  
He just knew he wasn’t where he was, just a minute ago.  
  
The monsters were gone.  
  
Cas was gone.  
  
Dean was gone.  
  
The pain from the bullet meant to kill Chuck was gone.  
  
And he was – here.  
  
“Okay, you are beginning to worry me Sam. You’ve been overdoing it, I keep telling you, you don’t get enough rest.”  
  
Sam realized he had stopped breathing all together just as the world went fuzzy, He forced himself to take some deep breaths. In and out. He had to focus.  
  
“That’s a good boy” The woman cooed. “Sit right here and just breathe.”  
  
Think. He had to think.  
  
He was in some kind of room, there was a brass kettle sitting on an unlit fireplace ion one side, a table close by covered with what appeared to be dried herbs and leaves of some kind.  
  
It came to him in a whoosh – Chuck – Chuck and his talk of all the worlds he and Dean existed in, all the alternative universes.  
  
At least he wasn’t a squirrel.  
  
The woman was talking again. “I can see you could benefit from a bit of a lie down, so I am going to be on my way. Thank you for these, Prather will greatly appreciate being rash free once again.”  
  
Sam was still finding it hard to focus. “I should – I should – “  
  
“It’s okay Sam. I will come back in a few days for the goldenrod It can wait.”  
  
Sam followed behind her as she made her way to a gigantic circular door. Sam was tall yes, but this door looked like it had been made for a giant.  
  
Were there giants here?  
  
If there were giants, what else could there be?  
  
Where was Dean?  
  
He followed the woman out of the house, feeling more than a little like a lost puppy.  
  
The sun was bright, and Sam had to shade his eyes. He could barely make out the woman headed behind the house.  
  
She was walking on what appeared to be dirt, but it was black. Sam bent down to touch the ground with his hand and then drew his hand back hurriedly. The dirt was gritty, and it had the texture of something that had been burnt. In front of him, nothing but this dark, burnt earth.  
  
He followed the path the woman had taken and – it was as different as night was to day. There was grass behind the house, a garden full of vegetables and herbs. Even some fruit bearing trees. All well took care of. He could just make out the figure of the old woman as she headed toward the trees that were several hundred yards behind the garden.  
  
He fought back panic as he watched the woman disappear, leaving him alone without any idea of where he was or how to find Dean.  
  
If Chuck was responsible for dumping him here, surely Chuck was around somewhere. Watching.  
  
“Chuck!”  
  
It came out much quieter, more tentative, then he intended it to. Still, Sam waited for a few beats.  
  
Nothing.  
  
This couldn’t have been Cas’ doing, he didn’t have the mojo. All the arch angels were dead or in different dimensions (hopefully not this one). Rowena wasn’t anywhere near them when Sam had been transported, even if she had the magic to pull this off.  
  
It made no sense, since Chuck was responsible for raising the monsters,(after Sam had shot him, which was screw up number about six thousand and two for him). So why would Chuck reward him by saving his soon to be monster-chow ass and putting him here? Unless this place was worse?  
  
And where the hell was Dean?  
  
“Chuck!” Sam yelled again, louder. “Chuck, God, whatever, I know you are here. I know you can hear me. I want to go back home. Take me back, now.”  
  
Nothing.  
  
Well not nothing, a few birds chirping. The sound of wind, even though the sky was fairly cloudless, Sam wondered if a storm was approaching.  
  
“Chuck, come on. Enough of your games. No one is amused.”  
  
Nothing. What else would he be expecting from God?  
  
“Dean?” Sam tried instead.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Then Sam realized although it sounded like the wind was picking up, the leaves on the trees were barely rustling.  
  
It was then he looked up and saw it.  
  
It was far bigger than a bird, but there were wings, and it was headed straight for Sam.  
  
Fuck.  
  
Not knowing what else to do, Sam ran toward the front of the cabin, wanting to get inside where hopefully the huge creature couldn’t follow.  
  
It landed just as Sam turned the corner.  
  
It raised his head, and looked at Sam, and then his big, long nose bumped into Sam’s chest.  
  
And Sam landed on his ass, hard.  
  
And the thing – snorted at him. . The sound was unmistakeable and Sam looked up and realized two things simultaneously.  
  
The thing was a dragon. A huge, terrifying, so close he could touch it, dragon.  
  
And the dragon was staring right back at him, with wide, large, open eyes.  
  
Crystal green eyes.  
  
The eyes that Sam had looked into countless times over his life.  
  
“Dean?” Sam asked, finding it hard to think above the roaring sound in his ears.  
  
The dragon narrowed his eyes and his nostrils flared.  
  
And Sam’s world went black.  
  
  
Sam woke up a few seconds later, flat on his back with a dragon so close that their noses were almost touching, and Sam could feel hot, sour breath against his face.  
  
“Dude, you could use some mouthwash.” Sam mumbled as his rubbed his hand over his face only to discover his face was wet. He sat up fast, the dragon – Dean – moved back quickly. “Did you – did you lick me?” Sam asked incredulously.  
  
The dragon looked away from Sam, his scaly feet shifting back and forth in a way that was oddly familiar. “Don’t ever do that again.” Sam admonished as he got to his feet. He was still a bit shaky, but he managed to stand.  
  
“Okay so Chuck dumped me in a world where I live in a huge cabin in the middle of nowhere and you are a dragon.” Saying it out loud didn’t make it feel any more real. Sam stared at the dragon, unable to fix it in his mind that this was Dean. Dean was huge, dark purple and black scales covered his long body. He had large wings and a tail and –  
  
Dean was a dragon.  
  
“Chuck!” Sam yelled again, eyes never leaving the dragons. Dean, apparently unconcerned with Sam’s uneasiness walked right to the cabin, nudged the door open with his nose and entered.  
  
With no plan in sight and still trying to process Dean as a dragon, Sam followed.  
  
The dragon walked toward the center of the room, and laid down, eyes watching Sam. Sam felt decidedly unsettled, Dean’s eyes in a very big – scaly – body. He was so big he took up a large section of the floor, which explained why the floor was bare. “You have no idea how excited Dean would be to know there is a world where he is bigger than I am.” Sam told him. The dragon looked back and stretched out his wings. Unfurled they almost touched the walls on each side of the cabin.  
  
Show off.  
  
What did one do with a dragon?  
  
“Are you hungry?” Sam asked. There were some vegetables – potatoes and carrots and something that might be a turnip in the sink – apparently ready to be washed. Sam picked up a few vegetables and tentatively held them out to Dean. Dean turned his face away, nose in the air.  
  
Well it was kind of comforting to know some things never changed. “Doesn’t look like I have bacon or cheeseburgers here so – “ Sam put the vegetables back where he had gotten them. “I guess you probably feed yourself – I mean if the legends are true and you breathe fire – which would explain all that burnt earth out there then – “  
  
Sam didn’t want to think about what Dean might eat or why Dean had felt the need to set fire to so much ground.  
  
Dean laid his head down, but still watched Sam.  
  
Sam stood at the sink, uncertain what to do.  
  
At home, the bunker, there was always something to do. A case to find, a hunter to help out, an apocalypse to stop. Hell, even a series to watch on Netflix with Dean sitting in the armchair beside his, loudly munching on chips and even more loudly commenting on the action of the show.  
  
He missed the bunker with a pang that kind of surprised him.  
  
“I don’t suppose you know the way out of here.” Sam went on, because apparently when he was this unnerved babbling was his go to. “I want to go back to my non-dragon Dean. Not that dragons aren’t cool because – look at you– but I left my brother in a pretty tight spot and I need to get back to him.”  
  
There were some books lying on a small table by the bed and Sam walked past the dragon – making sure he gave him a wide berth because hey – fire breathing dragon right there – and picked up the books. One was on healing properties of herbs and another seemed to be about practical medicine - how to splint broken bones, how to treat influenza . “So, this Sam is kind of like a doctor I guess? That’s nice, that I – he – this Sam is helping people. Still it’s got to be kind of lonely for him. Not that your not great company-“  
  
There was a loud noise. Sam almost dropped the book he was holding and turned to look back at the dragon. Dean was fast asleep, snoring loudly.  
  
Sam went back outside and yelled for Chuck until his voice got raspy. He went back inside to see if he could find anything that would point him toward home. There were only three books in the cabin and none of them had anything in them about magic or angels. With no direction to head to, he put the vegetables in a pot of water and added some herbs and made himself some soup.  
  
And he thought.  
  
Tomorrow he was going to try to find Myrtle (which Sam had named her because she looked like someone named Myrtle) or anyone he could find to see if they knew someone who could help him get back. He’d have to be careful; this might be a world that burned witches at a stake but if there were dragons – surely there was magic or other mystical creatures or something that could help. He was sitting on the bed, thumbing through the book on herbs and other plants, sure that he could never sleep, when one moment he was reading about the healing properties of ground lilies and the next – there was a pounding on the door.  
  
It took Sam a disorienting moment to figure out where he was.  
  
Dean was gone, off to do dragon things Sam supposed.  
  
Sam opened the door to find a small boy, maybe about seven, with blond hair and grey-blue eyes standing there, he was breathing hard, wheezing.  
  
“Did you run here or - ?” Sam asked. It was early, the sun barely peaking over the horizon, a hazy reddish gold color.  
  
The boy nodded his head. “My whole family is – we are – “  
  
The boy bent over and Sam, concerned, knelt down to his level – just in time for the boy to vomit all over Sam’s jeans.  
  
“Sorry Mr. Sam.” The boy said, as he stood up again. Sam followed suit, grimacing at the feeling of his wet, fouled jeans sticking against his legs.  
  
“It’s all right Come in Did Myrtle send you?” Sam asked. The boy looked at him confused as Sam led him to one of the only two chairs in the room. “Lady about this big.” Sam asked, holding his hand out about five feet from the ground. “Silver hair?”  
  
“You mean Ms. Sarah?” The boy asked, then shook his head. “No, everyone knows to go to Mr. Sam when you are in trouble. It’s my whole family, everyone is sick. Mom sent me to you.”  
  
Myrtle – Sarah, well he had been close And, as it turned out, he did know how to help. Jessica had made him this tea when he had gotten sick way back when. “Here have a seat, it will be a few minutes. And if you feel like you are going to be sick just – “  
  
There wasn’t a trash can, but there was some kind of heavy paper that this world’s Sam seemed to use to wrap things. Sam laid a couple of pieces on the floor. “I’ll be right back.”  
  
Finding the peppermint was easy. It took a bit to figure out how to turn the peppermint into tea, but Sam got it done. In the meantime – the boy – Thomas – who seemed to have felt better after his vomiting episode was telling Sam all about his new sister Sam realized that Thomas assumed Sam knew all about his family.  
  
Sam gave him some of the peppermint tea to drink when Thomas started looking queasy again. Thankfully it seemed to do the trick. “Is Dean here?” Thomas asked hopefully, as Sam wrapped some of the peppermint up in the paper, along with a hastily scrawled recipe for how to make the tea.  
  
Sam shook his head. “Sorry, no.”  
  
“That’s okay, I know he has to go adventuring, you’ve told me before.” Thomas said, accepting the package. He already looked better, face no longer so drawn. “I am going to be just like you Mr. Sam when I grow up. Helping people. Having my own dragon that I can ride way up in the sky with. “ And with another thanks, Thomas waved at Sam and was on his way.  
  
Sam never got to leave the cabin. Next came a Mr. Barnes with a bad case of sunburn. Two young women both with a bad case of poison ivy. They had gotten it while picking apples, or at least that’s the story they told Sam. Between fits of giggles, A man in his 20’s that disturbed a wasp’s nest.  
  
Every person that came by Sam tried to cautiously ask about strange occurrences or anyone different, but he came up empty handed. Every minute that went by Sam kept in mind that while he was busy helping strangers, Dean needed him, and he wasn’t there. Still, every time there was a knock on the door, and he opened it to see a hopeful stranger in pain or discomfort, he felt compelled to help.  
  
It was after Sarah’s sister had left with cat’s claw for her arthritis that Sam realized that he was both very tired and feeling weirdly satisfied.  
  
He imagined this quiet life of service every day.  
  
Imagine a person people respected. Being a person that helped people. Being a person that never betrayed his brother, never traveled down a dark path, never had people that looked up to him die because he had been too slow to save them.  
  
What would he be, if he was a person without regrets?  
  
As if on cue, Dean landed beside him, made a very big production of sniffing him with his long nose and then took several steps back. “Yeah I know, I stink.”  
  
Sam had been so busy, he had just wiped a cold wet rag over his jeans. The townspeople had never mentioned the smell. Either they were very polite or very used to having Sam smell this way.  
  
Sam went back inside and found a box with a pair of linen like pants so Sam washed up as best as he could and took his jeans off just as Dean entered the cabin.  
  
“Hey privacy!” Sam yelled at Dean who just wandered on in and laid back down. Sam hurriedly put on the other Sam’s pants. As he was tying the drawstring Dean, moving very fast for a creature so big, darted to where Sam was, grabbed the soiled pants by his teeth – careful Sam noted to not touch the vomit-covered part of them - and took them outside. By the time Sam caught up with him, Dean had set the pants on fire.  
  
“You can’t do that – “ Sam started, but Dean just glanced his way and then breathed more fire at the pants, which were now nothing but a smoldering black mess.  
  
That expression on Dean’s face looked suspiciously like a smirk as the small fire petered out.  
  
“ You aren’t as funny as you think you are.” Sam admonished Dean cause apparently he lived in a world where he admonished dragons now,  
  
Dean bent his neck down and flattened his body low to the ground.  
  
“Ok is this the way you say you are this sorry, or are you just mocking me?” Sam asked Dean, and seriously, why did he keep talking to Dean like Dean could understand him?  
  
There was a growly sound from the dragon and then that strange huffing noise he had made the day before. He inched closer to Sam, still low to the ground and Dean’s tail nudged him closer.  
  
“I still don’t – “ Sam paused and then saw that part of Dean’s scales were rubbed, like something pressing against them time and time again had worn on the scales. Sam reached out and touched them – they were close to Dean’s neck and – Sam remembered what Thomas had said about him and Dean.  
  
“No, no way. “ Dean turned his head toward Sam, but otherwise didn’t move. “No, I am not getting on your back and – how the hell does your Sam not just fall off?”  
  
Another of those huffing sounds and then Dean rolled his eyes at him. Like literally rolled his eyes. “Don’t you even – you won’t even set foot in a plane that has seats and is encased in steel and - well not you you, but Dean you - my Dean I mean – “  
  
Dean inched closer still and bumped Sam’s leg.  
  
“Not going to happen.” Sam said firmly. “I’ll walk to where I need to go, thanks anyway.”  
  
With a growly displeased sound, Dean lifted his self back up. Sam had barely enough time to back away before Dean was spreading his wings – one of which just so happened to bump into Sam and knock him on his ass- before taking off again.  
  
Idiot.  
  
And Sam’s chest constricted with the pain of missing Dean.  
  
He had let Dean down so many times, he wasn’t going to do it again. Someone, somewhere, knew the way home and Sam was going to find that person.  
  
Fifteen minutes later Sam had just finished wrapping some herbs into some of that thick paper and had made his way back outside. He was planning to hike to the village and go door to door until he found someone who could help him, and he wanted to be prepared if he was needed, when Dean landed again, immediately lowering his body.  
  
“I’m not going to change my mind-“. Sam started, but the look Dean gave him was not playful at all. For a moment, it was as if his Dean was standing before him, with that fierce look of determination on his face.  
  
Without knowing how he knew it; Sam knew someone was in trouble.  
  
Not wanting to give himself time to chicken out, Sam scrambled up Dean’s side and settled on a spot right behind his neck that seemed to have a bit of a dip in it, like a worn-out groove. There was nothing to hold on to and Sam settled for leaning over and putting his hands on either side of Dean’s neck.  
  
There was a pause and then Dean lifted up – and while Sam tried to maintain his balance and fight the feeling of vertigo that washed over him – Dean spread his wings – and they were off the ground.  
  
“Fuck.” Sam breathed. He could see the cabin below him, looking smaller by the second. He was still hunched over Dean; his heart was beating so loud he could hear it over the rushing sound of Dean’s wings in motion. Panic was beginning to reach a crescendo when Dean landed.  
  
Sam just slid off Dean, landing on his ass for the third time in two days, but the terror was forgotten the moment he saw why Dean had taken him here.  
  
Thomas was lying on the ground, a crowd of maybe five or six people surrounding him. Sarah was holding a cloth to his leg, but blood was clearly soaking through, covering the front of Thomas’ leg and Sarah’s hands.  
  
“How long?” Sam asked, pulling up his shirt sleeves as he ran the short distance to Thomas.  
  
“Just a few minutes, 2 or 3 at most. Dean was here when it happened – doing tricks, showing off the way he does - when Thomas fell forward and landed on this.”  
  
Sam was already elevating Thomas’ leg as Sarah explained. Thomas’ eyes were closed, but Sam gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as he located Thomas’ Popliteal artery and applied pressure. Sarah had indicated a stick that had been sharpened on one end, no doubt some kids had been playing with it before Dean had distracted them.  
  
“Keep pressure on the wound.” Sam told her. “Does someone have something else we can use as a bandage?” A man tore off part of his shirt and held it out. “Sarah, put that on top of the other one and keep the pressure going.”  
  
Thomas opened his eyes and smiled when he saw Sam. “I knew Dean was gonna go get you. You always say he’s the smartest dragon ever.” Thomas said. “Mr. Sam, I don’t feel so good.”  
  
“You’re fine. You are going to be just fine.” Already Sam could tell the bleeding was slowing down. He silently thanked everyone but Chuck that a lifetime of dealing with injuries had let him know exactly what to do to help Thomas. “You just relax and we are going to take good care of you.”  
  
Sam kept the pressure on the artery with one hand, then took a peek under the makeshift bandages to check the blood flow. It had gone down to a mere trickle. Sam let Thomas’ leg down carefully.  
  
“It’s a good thing Dean got you here so quick.” Sarah told him. “He was fading fast.”  
  
Sam checked one more time, the bleeding had all but stopped. “He lost a lot of blood. And I’m going to have to stitch this up. Is there somewhere we can take him?”  
  
“Let’s get him to my house, it’s just up the hill there. I’ve got some yarrow that should help with the healing. I still got some of that sleeping draught you gave me too, should knock this sweet boy right out.”  
  
Thirty minutes later, Sam had finished taking care of Thomas. He wished he could give the kid antibiotics, but with what he had he knew he had done the best he could.  
  
Sarah followed him out. It was getting close to sunset now Sam noted as Dean, as if he had some kind of sixth sense, landed right beside him.  
  
“Thank you again. You saved that boys’ life. His mother would have never recovered if something had happened to him.”  
  
Sam had always felt uncomfortable with praise. “I am just glad I was able to help.”  
  
“You are a good man Sam Winchester.” Sarah told him, patting his arm as she looked up at him.  
  
Sam had no doubt that she thought the Sam Winchester they knew was a good man, but he really didn’t know how to respond to a compliment that wasn’t really meant for him.  
  
Sarah shook her head and then pulled on Sam’s shirt so he would look down at her, hazel eyes meeting watery blue. “I see your heart. And I see you. You, Sam Winchester, are a good man.”  
  
Sam felt a faint blush color his cheeks. “That’s – uh - thank you ma’am.”  
  
“Now, I think you might find what you are looking for beyond that lake over yonder. Dean will know the way.” And with that, Sarah reentered her house.  
  
Could Sam dare to hope?  
  
Dean was doing that lowering thing that meant he wanted Sam to climb on his back . Before he did so, Sam looked into those achingly familiar eyes. “Is she right Dean? Do you know the way home?”  
  
The only answer was the spreading of Dean’s wings.  
  
Sam made his way to the side of Dean, the feeling of hope overriding the fear of flying. He climbed carefully back on top of Dean, but this time he didn’t hunch over.  
  
“All right, take me home.”  
  
There was a second or two pause, a few kids gathered a safe distance away and Sam waved at them as Dean lifted off the ground. Dean flew directly over their heads and Sam forgot his fear as he watched the kids scatter, laughing in a way that was half screams of fright and half peals of pure joy.  
  
Dean made a few more passes over their heads and then headed toward a lake the Sam could barely make out in the distance. The sun was beginning to set, the magic hour. Sam could feel some of his fear lifting as he stayed steady on Dean’s back and the beauty of what he was seeing, the world cloaked in the dark red and golden streaks of the fading sun, causing his worry to just fade away.  
  
He was flying  
  
He was riding a real-life fucking dragon and he was flying.  
  
Sam gave a small whoop of joy and when Dean began to soar even higher as they approached the lake, Sam laughed even louder. He dared to lift his hands from Dean’s neck and held them straight out to his sides, feeling the air all around him, soaking in the danger and the beauty and the unbridled joy in what he was doing. He closed his eyes and he let everything go – he didn’t think about where they were heading or what he had left behind. For the first time since those hunters in his care had died, he wasn’t carrying them with him. He was unfettered. He was free.  
  
Dean got bolder, as if sensing Sam’s confidence growing. Dean dipped. He flew from side to side of the lake, in speeds so fast the world was a blur. He flew down low, scaring a family of geese. He soared high. And Sam – Sam just soared with him. A man and his dragon in flight.  
  
It was too soon when the lake began to fade behind them. The sun was totally set now, the stars above them the only light as there was no moon. Dean landed in front of a cave. Sam could see a bright white light inside.  
  
Sam slid off Dean and made his way to Dean’s head. Dean was looking at the ground, his wings pressed tight against him.  
  
Sam had learned to trust his instincts, and his instincts told him that although it didn’t seem to be a tear - that while light was still his portal back.  
  
“I want to thank you for everything Dean. For helping me save Thomas. I hope everyone back there realizes you are the real hero.” Dean lifted his head, his eyes meeting Sam’s. “And that flight here, I don’t have words for how it made me feel. It was everything.”  
  
Dean nuzzled into Sam, reminding him so much of a really large (and scaly) dog, that Sam couldn’t help but reach up and pat his nose. “I hope your Sam comes back to you after I go home.”  
  
Dean lunged forward, taking Sam off guard and Sam, once more, landed on his ass. With one last smirk, Dean lifted off and was gone.  
  
“Well goodbye to you too.” Sam shouted after him.  
  
He walked into the cave and without hesitation, he walked straight through the white light.  
  
And-  
  
Dean was standing on one side of him and Cas was standing slightly in front of him. Sam was just able to take one stabilizing breath – press reassuringly against Dean in the same second - and hold up his make-shift weapon before the first monster lunged at him.


End file.
